5 Questions for Ruby Author Cynthia Bond

Despite its gruesome subject matter—sexual violence, pedophilia, and brutal racism—Cynthia Bond’s debut novel, Ruby, is beautiful and uplifting, even its most unsettling moments. It’s also Oprah’s latest Book Club 2.0 pick. We were lucky enough to get to speak with Cynthia briefly, and here’s what we just had to ask:
Which book have you reread the most? 
Their Eyes Were Watching God, by Zora Neale Hurston.
When and where do you get most of your reading done?
In bed, covers pulled around my neck, television remote gathering dust. If it’s a great book, I am up until 3 a.m. and bleary-eyed in the morning when I get my kid up for school. If it’s not, it soothes me to sleep. Either way, it works.
Which book have you recommended the most?
So many! There are books I talk about often, that inspire and educate. Books that have seeped under my skin and shifted the way I think. Victor Frankl’s Holocaust memoir, Man’s Search For Meaning, is one. James Baldwin’s The Fire Next Time is another. Octavia Butler’s sci-fi slave story, Kindred, was revelatory. In The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Diaz taught me to read in a new way. Alice Walker’s iconic The Color Purple opened the door for me to write my novel. Right now I’m rereading Janet Fitch’s White Oleander, which has, once again, yanked me into the undertow and is holding me beneath the surface with such beauty and power that I release control and learn to breath salt water.
Which book do you wish you wrote?
I honestly have never wished that I had written another book. Not because I don’t worship many, many pieces of literature—I do. It’s only, writing a novel is like running a marathon, and at the risk of sounding a bit dramatic, childbirth. I never wish I’d given birth to any other child. I can admire their dimples, their adroit skill, and wonder at their talent. I can ask myself, “How did they do that?” But I would never want to have run their race—nor do I wish to steal their creation.
Poetry is another matter. There are many pieces I would have liked to have written, only to have experienced the feeling of putting the words on paper. Pablo Neruda’s poem To the Foot from its Child. Stunning. And poet Lynn Stanley’s book Gravity Claims Us has made my fingers wistful for decades.
How do you mark your pages while you read?
I turn down the corners, even with sparkling new hardcover books. I have lost every bookmark I’ve purchased or have been given. Hint: Christmas? Birthdays? Nix the bookmarks.